


Bjorn To Raise Hell

by grayspider1974



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 18:49:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 13,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7118215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayspider1974/pseuds/grayspider1974
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This starts with stories from Scottish legend in which the women of the Hebrides would capture Viking raiders by getting them all drunk and then scuppering their ships, and keep the youngest and healthiest men for breeding purposes.  It gets dark and bloody towards the end. Kylli is named for a heroine of the Kalevala, and the songs she and her brothers sing are from the part of the Kalevala that Sibelius made into the Kullevoinen Suite. The Ghost Eyes is a real trait that runs in my husband's family, but the Touch Me Not is of my own invention. I am a little like Captain Birdie, only I am not possessed and I don't own a harpoon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eini Beini Piiku Suomi Tuuti

Chapter One: Eini Beini Piiiku Suomi Tuuti...  
The reindeer was hard to miss, and the rider (while small) was hard to ignore.  
"Hei, he!" she said "Is this the way to Kattegat?"  
Bjorn yawned, blinked a couple of times, and stared up at the strange newcomer  
"Go away," he said. He had made himself a sort of nest out in the woods to get away from all the craziness in Kattegat, much of which he believed was caused by the fact that all the women between the ages of puberty and menopause had synchronized menstrual cycles.  
The girl prodded him with her toe. "I'm talking to you, buckethead. Is this the way to Kattegat? I've got a message for someone called Bjorn Ragnarsson from Louhi Sariola."  
"Fuck off!"  
"There's this for him, too." She held out a jar of Karelian pickled mushrooms. "Lou says he likes them."  
Bjorn sat up and looked at the newcomer. The girl was tiny....less than five feet tall including the weird, fluffy ponytail on top of her head. She could have been anywhere between twelve and twenty, and was too skinny to pique his interest. She wore necklaces of irregular chunks of shell, of wood, of tiny animal bones and irregular chunks of pale, cloudy amber, and the rest of her clothes consisted of a sort of smock of plain linen and high boots of rather good pale leather.  
"Do you know this Bjorn Ragnarsson?" the girl continued. "Louhi said he was a big fella....her exact words were 'they call him Bjorn, because he's as big as a barn...."  
Bjorn stood up "Like me?"  
"Um...you are BIG, and evidently you're nude under that bearskin. What happened to your clothes?"  
"I washed them," said Bjorn. "They should be hanging down by the river if nobody's taken them. They might be dry by now."  
"I've been to Midsummer's Eve at Pojala, so I've seen stranger things than what you've got under that pelt, believe me!" said the girl. "Strange things are done under the midnight sun, but I for one ain't gonna tell you 'bout them.Do you have any idea where this Bjorn Ragnarsson, aka Ironsides, aka One Big Son Of A Bitch is?"  
"You're lookin' at him," Bjorn said "And who in Hell am I talkin' to?"  
"Um, they call me Kyllikylli Taapiolan, Mistress of Song, Tiny Terror of Taapiola, and That Awful Racket." She handed Bjorn a letter It read:  
Bjorn:  
Please escort Miss Taapiolan and her companions to the Isle of Tir Manannan in the Hebrides...See Map on obverse of this letter. A sum of ten thousand drachmae has been deposited into an account in your name at the Imperial Bank of Constantinople branch in Kiev to be opened upon proof of her safe return. Sincerely, Louhi Sariola, Mistress of Song, Lady of Pojala, Thief of Sun and Moon, et cetera.  
"It mentions companions," Bjorn said. "Where are they?"  
"They should be along presently," said Kylli "They're my brothers."  
"I think I should talk to my father," Bjorn said "It's his house, his ships, and his rules around here. I just hope he's sober and in a good mood."   
"Maybe we should find some pants, first..." said Kyllikylli.


	2. Chaos in Kattegat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bjorn searches for his pants, requisitions a ship, and learns of the peculiarities of his new companions, and a bit about where he's going.

Chapter Two: Chaos in Kattegat  
Bjorn's clothes were nowhere to be found.  
"Well you in trouble now, Mister Man" said Kyllikylli "unless you're going to walk into town like that!"  
Bjorn shrugged.  
Kattegat was utter bedlam, as it usually was. The women were all worked up in a frenzy over one thing or another, and that set the men at each other's throats as well. Children, dogs, poultry and other defenseless creatures did their best to stay out of the way, but King Ragnar was sitting in the middle of it all, drinking a beer and laughing uproariously as too of his queen's handmaidens were pummeling each other because one of them had stolen the other's comb.  
"This is why I go in the woods sometimes," said Bjorn "Every damn month something like this happens....though I'll admit that using someone else's grooming tools is a disgusting thing to do!"  
Kyllikylli circled the central square nervously. "I don't know where to dismount," she said "There's too much mud. Shouldn't someone have put down boards, or something?"  
"We did," said Bjorn "They're buried under the mud."  
Kylllikylli's mount bellowed when a stray clod of mud hit it.  
"Why did I have to wear my WHITE boots?" she asked a cold and uncaring sky.  
Bjorn picked up a barrel and set it down in front of his father. Then he grabbed Kylli's reindeer by one antler and steered it over to the barrel and said "I think it's best if I lift you down."  
"Whup!" said Kylli "Mind you don't damage my kantele...it's a rather delicate instrument."   
Bjorn saw that Kylli had a peculiar stringed instrument slung over her shoulder by a macrame strap...and that she was not wearing underwear under her rather thin smock.  
"She rode bareback on a reindeer all the way from wherever the fuck Taapiola is...some delicate instrument indeed!" he thought, and reached for the bag of ambergris around his neck.  
"Say hello to my little friend...um..."  
"Kyllikylli Taapiolan, Mistress of Song, Tiny Terror of Taapiola, That Awful Racket...I'm pleased to meet you, King Ragnar. I need a boat. Big Guy over here wants to rent me a boat, but he says he needs your permission to do so....whaddaya say?"  
Ragnar grinned "You're a pretty little itty bitty thing, ain't you...." he asked as he reached out a hand to stroke Kylli's chin. Her Touch Me Not let off a brilliant spark of light and a loud POP  
"Men a pois, perkeke likainen apini..." she growled. Bjorn realized that she had just called his father a damn dirty ape.  
"Um...Kylli, do you know that they call my father the Wrath of God...?" he asked.  
"He's gonna feel MY wrath if he doesn't keep his hands to himself," Kylli hissed. There was a soft plop as the barrel she was standing on sunk a couple of centimeters into the mut. Then her eyes widened "Paskianen! He likes it!"   
Ragnar laughed.  
"Do I get a boat?" Kylli asked. "Louhi's going to pay your son a shitload of cash for it, plus anything he finds on the way...dread reavers of the North and all that. She even sent a map...he's to take me to some place in the Hebrides called Tir Manannan. Do you know of it?"  
"Well, no" said Ragnar. "Aethelstan mentioned that there was a country called Caledonia north of Hadrian's Wall, but he had little to say about it aside from that the people who lived there were so objectionable that they built the Wall to keep them there...but hey, is that a Kantele? Are you any good with it?"  
The barrel sank a few more centimetres. "Oh what the hell," said Kylli "Hei poiken!"  
Someone in the crowd shouted "Yo!", and another and another. Strange young men armed with bows appeared in the crowd, as though they had not been there a second before. They were smaller than the Norse, but looked strong and all had the same high cheekbones and grey eyes. "Jussi, Jukko, Pekko, Vaiko, Raimo...oh, put down that anvil, Hanno! There's no need to commit regicide today."  
"Aw!" said a young man who was standing on the eaves holding a small anvil as though poised to bring it crashing down on King Ragnar's head.  
"They were planning to kill him if things went badly for them," thought Bjorn "Devious little bastards..."  
"These are my brothers," said Kylli "They call us the Seven Suomi." Then she started to play her kantele. She was in fact quite good. Her brothers started singing, and they were pretty good too  
"Kullervo, kalervon poika, sinisukka aijon lapsi hivus keltainen korea, kengan kauton kaunokainen..."  
Bjorn recognized it as being in Kalevala meter, but only managed to catch a few words. Then Kyllikylli suddenly cut in, with the lines  
"Surma pulla korjahan, tauti taaksi taljoillesi" which basically means "Fuck off and go to Hell!" Technically speaking, she was good, but her voice was a shrill warbling bumblebee soprano that made Bjorn's sinuses ache. From what he knew of the Kalevala, they would probably go on and on like that for an hour or more. He went in search of something to stuff in his ears (and pants...he still needed pants!) and sw Ivar Boneless under a table with his hands over his ears.  
"Your friends are WEIRD!" Ivar mouthed.


	3. Ghost Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bjorn learns even more about the peculiarities of his new companions, and prepares to set sail.

The next morning, after another peaceful night out in the woods Bjorn found that even the unearthly musical performance of the night before had not dimmed his resolve. After all, it was bloody well time that Father let him have his own ship, and ferrying a musical troupe to a gig (albeit a peculiar and potentially murderous troupe---he had not forgotten about the anvil suspended over his father's head the night before) was probably still less hazardous and potentially more profitable than the traditional reaving and raping routine (not that he had ever gotten up to any raping anyway....in truth, women STILL made him feel a bit nervous) Hell...if he found any place worth raiding, he'd drop by on the way back. He wandered into his father's hall, and saw Kyllikylli juggling balls of lightning. Ivar Boneless sat on the floor watching her, as was Nate the Belligerent Butcher of Byzantium....no, Nate was in fact looking up Kylli's dress.  
"She's a peach, Bjorn..." Nate whispered.  
"She's tiny!" said Bjorn "I would be afraid of rolling over in bed and accidentally crushing her!"  
"That's because you're a behemoth," said Nate "Somewhere in the world there's a seven-foot-tall woman with a man's haircut and serious anger issues that you can go and run off into the woods with to terrorize the local wildlife...and on that day you meet her you will be deliriously happy. She will probably be named something hideous like Bertha or Brunhilda or Bethany....but until you meet her, kindly FUCK THE HELL OFF1...oh, look at that!"   
Kyllikylli had risen up gracefully on one toe and bent one leg up behind her until her foot was level with her head, and she was juggling between her legs. Bjorn covered Ivar's eyes.  
"Hei hei, Bjorn. Thank you for wearing pants!"  
"Hello, Kyllli. I wish that you would do the same."  
She razzed him. "Prude!"  
"Hypocrite!" he shot back.  
"Giant slab of lean beef!"  
"I consider comments like that to be compliments," said Bjorn. "I am an absolutely delicious slab of lean beef! You, on the other hand, are but a squab."  
"And what am I?' asked Nate "Chopped liver?"  
"Oh most certainly," said Bjorn "and here comes approximately one hundred pounds of miscellaneous bones, sinews, and loose skin."  
"I hope you're not referring to me," said Floki "because I'm the brains here, for it is clear that neither of you have any!"  
Kyllikylli's fireballs suddenly shot srtaight up into the air and nearly set fire to the thatched roof above. Her eyes had a peculiar silver glitter.  
"Yo, Floki!" she said in a weird, breathless whisper. "Aethelstan says hello! He wants to know when you're going to join him..."  
Her brothers all stood up together.  
Kylli giggled. "Oh, you are going to shit a brick when you die....or rather, just after you die and you find out...." She put her hand over her mouth "Oh, I don't think I should tell him...I think he should find it out for himself!"  
Bjorn was confused. Who had even mentioned Aethelstan?  
"She sees dead people sometimes," said Hanno. "It's a family trait...usually they don't know they're dead."  
"Is she possessed?" Bjorn asked  
"No."  
"Aethelstan knows he's dead," said Kylli. "He asked me to tell your father to get another priest. There's another dead priest here, but he just keeps staring at his hands and muttering 'these people...these Goddamn people...look what they did to my hands!' and does not seem to be aware of us at all. Oh, and a really angry Asian woman who keeps swearing in a language I don't understand...the only word I understand is 'cocksucker'. I think she's angry at your father."  
Bjorn shuddered " Yidu. Maybe Yidu but I don't!"   
"There's too many dead people in here!" Kyllikylli wailed "ALL I SEE ARE DEAD PEOPLE!" She ran to the doorway, and stopped. "I forgot I was wearing my white boots," she said "AND WHAT IN TUONLA DID YOU DO TO THAT MAN WITH THE RED HAIR?" She crouched in the doorway, dry heaving.  
"Um," said Bjorn "Has she been eating those Karelian pickled mushrooms?"  
"Hell no," said Jussi. "If she had, she'd be yammering away about numbers falling from the sky. She really does see dead people. She got the ghost eyes...we all do, but Kylli's the only one who's bothered by it. Is the priest the little man who looks like a whipped collie?"  
"Um....yes," said Bjorn  
"Then get another," added Hanno. "He's not leaving until you do. He had a nakki....what some would call a dybbuk. It's gone, but he's hanging on, waiting. I think the Asian lady just said something mean to him, because he looks terribly offended."  
"Aethelstan always looked terribly offended," said Bjorn. "At any rate, I'm hungry. Let's grab some bacon and go look at my ship."


	4. Hawk of a Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bjorn discovers what happened to his pants and sets sail with Floki, Finns, and Fighting Furry Freaks.

The ship was one of Floki's older vessels, and the sails had been patched with very familiar fabric.  
"So that's what happened to my pants," thought Bjorn "and thankfully, someone gave a pair to Kyllikylli."  
"That's our boat," said Kylli "What's her name?"  
"I think Floki named her the Hawk of a Thousand Years...see, she's got a hawk's head on her prow" said Bjorn. "Where are your brothers?"  
"They're packing up the yurt and smoking a reindeer," said Kylli.  
Hanno approached, carrying a heavy sack "Where do I put this?" he asked.  
"It's an open boat, Hanno," said Kylli "What do you think?"  
"Damn," said Hanno. "I'm just going to have to lash it down and hope for the best. I don't want that weird skinny guy pawing through my things, Kylli...that guy just pisses me off."  
"Well you're shit out of luck," said Bjorn. "Father insists that we take Floki ."  
"Are you shitting me?" Hanno asked.  
"Floki refused to go at first, but now he claims he needs to keep an eye on me because he thinks you're up to no good. I think he actually referred to you as 'that tiny witch and her pack of weirdos.'"  
"Neh..he should talk." said Kylli. "And he apparently invited those two to come with us...I think they're his cousins. I caught them perving at me while I was clipping my toenails. You would think they had never seen someone clip their toenails before."  
Floki's cousins were named Osric and Elric, but Bjorn thought of them as the Fighting Furry Freak Brothers, and they were distinguished mainly by their ginger hair and tendency to cackle like hyenas when amused. They were a very good argument for why first cousins should not marry. "You need us to make up a full crew," said Osric.  
"Hur, hur, hur...she's so bendy..."said Elric.  
"Leave me alone, or I'll bend YOU, Mister Man!" Kylli hissed. The weird silver glitter was back in her eyes "Your mother says that you are a terrible disappointment to her...what happened to the sweet little boys whose diapers she used to change?"  
"VOI ISONI! VOI EMONI!" Pekko suddenly boomed "VOI UN VALTA VANHEMPAN!" He was the baritone of the Seven Suomi, and the words he had sung ment "Mother's ruin! Father's shame! Shame of both your aged parents!"  
"I can't say it any better myself," said Bjorn.  
"What he said," said Nate "whatever it was!" He was hauling a hand cart loaded with a side of smoked reindeer meat wrapped in brown paper and several crocks "I got saurkraut, pickles, pickled herring...I should go get beer, and those zwiebacks that Helga makes. She'll let me pay her when we get back."   
"At least we won't starve, because Nate seems intent on packing half his stock," Bjorn thought. He looked around at the crew of the first ship under his command "I'm sure the Furry Freaks are a mistake. I just hope no one dies."

After a week at sea, Bjorn wished he was dead. They were making good time, but the constant wangaing was starting to get on his nerves. To "wanga" meant to bicker incessantly about weird and rather pointless shit. Kyllikylli seemed intent on provoking Floki into tossing her into the sea, her brothers were mouthy little bastards who argued about everything from philosophy and metaphysics to how to fry an egg, and the Furry Freaks liked to pick on Nate. They seldom came to blows except for the time Jukko suddenly jumped up, spun around the mast like a pole-dancer and kicked Osric in the head, thus ending the argument about the best way to fry an egg, but they never let Bjorn have a moment's peace. Not only that but he had developed a nagging sinus infection that made his face hurt like a bastard, and which hurt even more when Kylli sang to herself. She was up in the rigging singing like a canary from Hell when the storm hit. One moment the sea was placid, and then the wind shrieked shriller and louder than Kyllikylli's startled yell, and the clouds rolled in and the sea began to rage like a mob of women with PMS. Bjorn remembered how his father went crazy during thunderstorms, and he guessed that it had something to do with the lightening because Kylli had guessed that Ragnar's brain worked a bit strangely so that the Touch Me Not actually gave him a buzz rather than hurting him. Bjorn did not like storms so much, in fact this particular one was making his face hurt even worse than Kylli's singing had.  
"KYLLI! KYLLI!" he shouted. Bjorn was about to yell "get down from the mast, you idiot!" when the mast suddenly cracked lengthwise and split in half. "FUCK THIS! NO! NO! NO! NO1" Bjorn yelled. Nate had grabbed ahold of the rigging in an attempt to save either the mast or Kylli, but Nate's weight was not sufficient to hold it, nor was their weight combined with that of Bjorn, who felt the muscles in his back wrench, as the sail and rigging and Nate and Kylli were suddenly airborne.  
"Don't you have any SENSE? asked Floki "You nearly ripped yourself in half!"   
Bjorn whimpered. Apparently he did NOT have any sense, but he did not want to let Floki have the pleasure of knowing he was right.  
"Hm!" said Floki.  
"Look, there's a light!" yelled Osric "It's a lighthouse! Get out the oars and fucking ROW!"  
The crew who were able started to row.


	5. Tir Manannan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we meet Captain Birdie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tir Mannanan" means Island of Women in Gaelic  
> Hirsutism and unusually large posteriors both run in my family. The latter is an evolutionary advantage, and was once considered a mark of great beauty.

The storm eventually gave way to a drizzling fog. After what seemed like days of rowing (though it was perhaps only about an hour) another ship hove into view...or more precisely, a fishing boat that was slightly smaller than the Hawk of a Thousand Years. The ship was captained by a large man in a red cable-knit sweater.  
"Ahoy there!" he yelled in fair Norse "Are you in need of assistance? He had a round, friendly face and seemed totally unintimidated by them. "The Dark Lady here, out of Tir Manannan!"  
"WHERE?" Floki yelled  
"TIR MANANNAN!"  
"Well, this is luck at last," said Floki "They appear to be here to rescue us. I never thought anyone would do such a thing, but they are...and they are from wherever it is that we are going."  
The Fighting Furry Freak Brothers chortled, but the six remaining Suomi looked sour. "You know Kylli's still out there," said Hanno "and Nete. We should find them."  
"They're dead," said Floki. "We should not have to be too."  
"Kylli's not dead," said Pekko. "We would know if she was dead...and we still need her."  
The other five agreed "We got ghost eyes," added Jukko, "so we know who's dead and who ain't."   
"We'll go and look for her when we..." Floki let out a startled yelp "Is he smuggling a pair of melons in his pants?"  
The captain had just turned around.  
"No, those appear to be his...or rather her...buttocks," said Jussi "They appear to be almost comically large. In other words, the captain appears ti be one big-ass woman."  
"Hur hur hur!" The Freak Brothers started chortling again. "They're all big-ass women!"  
Indeed, when the ladies stood up they all seemed to have unusually large posteriors, though the captain's was the largest of them all. She reached up and snagged the hull of the Hawk of a Thousand Years with a boat hook.  
"Mother have mercy," Bjorn thought "She's nearly as big as I am." The woman looked a bit older than he was. She had thick brown hair pinned high on her head, and a face that was almost pretty, though she had wisps of hair growing around her mouth, which had been smeared with a dark red pigment that made her smile look bloody and slightly predatory.  
"Hi! I'm Birdy! Welcome to Tir Manannan! Let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a chill, luv."   
"I think I've already got one," Bjorn said. He snuffled.  
Birdy handed him a handkerchief which had an elaborate "B" embroidered on it in red.  
"Keep it, luv" she said. "I have a spare."

When Bjorn woke up the next morning and found Captain Birdy's large foot in his armpit, he thought for a moment that he had for some reason gone to bed with another man, but then he realized that she had curled up next to him and gone peacefully to sleep with her rather large posterior pressed against his hip. It took some effort to wake her up.  
"Mornin' luv" she chirped. "Hope you don't mind, but I have only one bed and my feet were freezing. Have you still got that cold?"  
Bjorn snuffled, and nodded.  
"I'll go fix you some herbal tea," said Birdie "It's my Mum's special recipe with rose hips, liquorice,ginger, honey and usquae beatha."  
"What in Hell is usquae beatha? Bjorn asked. He had a strong distrust for secret ingredients.  
"Well, you start by taking grain, water and yeast and making ale," said Birdy "Then you distill it, filter it, and age it in a cask for several years. I use one that came up from Jerez when I was little."  
"It sounds like vodka, except for the aging part."  
"What's vodka?" Birdy asked.  
"Clear, colourless, odourless hooch loved by Finns, Rus, and other desperate inebriates," said Bjorn.   
"Well usquae is not colourless, odourless or tasteless," said Birdy "I keep a bottle for myself under my pillow. It keeps away the chill."  
Bjorn sniffed the ceramic jug "I can't smell anything right now." but he took a swig anyway. He had once taken a vodka-and-mushroom induced gallop across half of Karelia, then got drunk again in Riga, and wound up floating naked in the Bosphorus before he finally realized where he was, but what the Hell...except for an encounter with some randy Greeks, some tainted oysters, and having his heart figuratively ripped out of his chest and stamped on, the experience had been really rather fun.  
"The tea will help your cold too" Birdy said. "Are you sure you don't want any?"  
Bjorn nodded. Then he realized that the bag of ambergris that he always wore around his neck was gone, which worried him a bit, but after a few more swigs of usquae beatha, he stopped worrying.  
Whiskey does that to people!


	6. Iona

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we encounter priests of a different order than Aethelstan, and learn the history of Tir Manannan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oringen's Heresy is the theory that the gods and other mythic beings of pagan belief did in fact exist, because humans have the power to alter reality through their beliefs. It is similar to the Buddhist concept of the Tulpa, and might explain a lot of things like UFOs, Elvis sightings, Bigfoot, et cetera!

The pebbles under Nate's back were digging into his skin, and he was painfully hungry but otherwise unharmed. He looked to his left and saw nothing but a long sweep of pebble beach. To his right, Kyllikylli walked up and down, singing idly to herself and digging in the sand with a stick. She had removed her pants, and was using them as a container for small objects that she found periodically.   
"She's digging for clams," thought Nate. "They're trefe, but I'm so hungry I could forget about keeping kosher for a while."   
"Well it's a good thing you float better than me," said Kylli. "I suppose you could call this dinner. Too bad we don't have a lemon." The clams dropped to the stones with a clatter, and Kylli hunkered down and prepared to crack them open with a rock.  
Nate's stomach growled, but he managed to decline. "I don't eat shellfish...especially not raw shellfish."  
"Suit yourself," said Kylli "hey...we're not alone!"  
A column of men snaked down a path that zig-zagged down the cliffs. They all had shaved heads and wore robes that made them look like a flock of bald crows.  
"There must be a monastery somewhere around here," said Kylli. Then she realized that she was for all intents and purposes naked. She shook the clams out of her trousers and put them on, muttering about how she hated wet clothes and hoped she would not get an infection "down there." As the monks hove into view, something strange became apparent. Some were nearly as big as Bjorn, most were smaller, but all carried long black staves that looked really heavy, and their faces were stern. Their leader was barely taller than Kylli, but he had an underbite that made him look like a bull terrier.  
"Um...hello..." Nate said in English.  
"Bloody Saxon wanker!" The monk hit him squarely in the ribs.  
Nate tried again in Norse.  
"Fucking Viking!" the monk yelled, and hit him again.  
Nate tried again in Byzantine Greek, and the monk prepared to strike him again, but Kylli darted between them.  
"Neh! Neh! Poike se Suomi!"  
The bulldog priest goggled. "Why, kovin hyvin, Ms. Taapiolan!" he said. We should speak Greek if that is the language your friend prefers. Louhi told me you were coming."

Iona was a monastery, and a big one at that, but the monks had been busy at more than just prayer, because Iona was also a shipyard, a fortress, and an arsenal. The place seemed to be preparing for war, and Nate was certain that they were preparing to fight the next Viking fleet that appeared on their horizon. Apparently, they had been attacked shortly after Lindisfarne, and were dead set against being plundered again. Bags were pulled over Nate and Kylli's heads, so they could not see the foundry or the shipyards or the yards where the monks were performing some sort of military drill. Then they were led down a long hall flanked by rooms in which classes were evidently being taught in languages, theology (the lecturer was discussing Oringen's Heresy) and chemistry. They were eventually led into an office, and the bags over Nate and Kylli's heads were removed. The bulldog-faced monk sat down behind the desk.   
"I'm Father Mackenzie, you could say I'm in charge of this ecclesiastical freak show," he said "Louhi sent me a message, Ms. Taapiolan, so I was expecting you. Who's your friend?"  
"I am Nathan, the Belligerent Butcher of Byzantium," said Nate.  
"I see," said Father Mackenzie "and how did you come by this interesting title?"  
"I...well, I used to run a kosher butcher shop in Constantinople," Nate said "before I started working for Bjorn."  
"His smoked meat really kicks ass," said Kylli. "I've been eating it for a week and I STILL like it. At any rate, we were sailing to Tir Manannan."  
Father Mackenzie's ruddy face turned bone white. "Tir Manannan?" he asked. "Hold on!"He leaned out the window and shouted.  
"GEORGE! LUCAS! NEED YOU NOW!" He paused a while "WHERE ARE BROTHER GEORGE AND BROTHER LUCAS?"  
Somebody outside shouted "THEY'RE IN THE HOOSEGOW AGAIN!"  
"WELL THROW A BUCKET OF WATER OVER EACH OF THEM AND BRING THEM HERE ASAP!"  
Father Mackenzie sat down. "Seems they had a little too much fun last night. I think it was their birthday. They'll be along...oh, right about now..."  
The door was flung open, and two men in sopping wet cassocks entered in a wafting cloud of body odour and whiskey breath undercut by garlic. They had identical broad, pug-nosed, unshaven and rather ugly faces.  
"Hair of the dog, boys?" asked Father Mackenzie.  
"Don't mind if I do!" said one.  
"Thank you very much!" said the other. Five very small glasses of a deep amber liquid were poured. The brothers and Father Mackenzie gulped theirs. Kylli sniffed it.  
"It's like vodka, but it's brown. What is it?"  
"It is usquae beatha, the Water of Life. The distillery that makes it is called Glen Nepenthe 'cos if you drink enough you forget about everything.  
Kylli sipped hers. "It's good. I can see how this would make one forget everything."  
"You'll need a stiff drink before you hear about Tir Manannan. The lads are from there."   
The brothers nodded. "We ran off when we were fifteen, 'cos that's when the women started eating the men" said George.  
"They started with the village priest, even though he was the one who called up Babda Mor in the first place. He thought he had a deal with her, but she and her daughters ate him anyway."  
"then they did the same to all the men, and the other women joined them," said Lucas. "It spread like a sickness."  
:They spared us because we were young, but I don't think they would have waited much longer," said George. "Birdie was already starting to salivate every time she looked at me.  
"She's the worst of Babda Mor's daughters," said George. "She's big, mean, and dangerous when wet."  
Kylli shuddered. "We were all going there. I know my brothers are still alive, but..."  
"Are they big men?" asked Lucas.  
"Nope, but Bjorn is. They call him Bjorn Ironside, son of King Ragnar, and One Big Son of a Bitch."  
"Well if he's on Tir Manannan, there's a damn good chance of him becoming Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner and A Light Bedtime Snack for the Daughters of Babda Mor, once they've had their fun with him." said George.  
"I think I need another shot of Glen Nepenthe," said Kylli. "I feel a bit of a chill!"


	7. Dirty Birdie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where my story turns into Misery, with a touch of Sweeney Todd. Skip it if you've just eaten, or if you like to believe that women are somehow inherently "nicer" than men! Basically, I am just turning the standard rape fantasy on its head...but women have some questionable impulses too.

Bjorn learned that not only was Captain Birdie the size of two women, she really WAS two women. There was Sweet Bridget, who was an intelligent and capable woman who had a knack for cooking and made her own lipstick on top of the kitchen stove and loved bright colours (especially madder red...even her lipstick was coloured with madder) and took great pains with her appearance even to the point of yanking out as many of the tough little whiskers that sprouted from her lips, chin, breasts and belly as she could. But Sweet Bridget could suddenly become Dirty Birdy in the blink of an eye. Dirty Birdie was the savage beast that jumped on Bjorn as soon as his lungs cleared and would not leave his cock alone, even if he begged and wept. Dirty Birdy bit, scratched, punched and swore at Bjorn and fucked him until it hurt. She had a thick, oily body odour that was repulsive, yet Bjorn's own body betrayed him again and again. She would fall asleep on top of him afterwards, which he supposed was fair payback for all the times he had fallen asleep on his wife or on his girlfriends, but he still did not like it. She had taken his axe and locked it in the cabinet where she kept her harpoon. She was an utter bitch, and yet Bjorn felt a peculiar sort of love for her...and when he found out what was really wrong with Captain Birdy, he pitied her. One night, as she was grinding the life out of him, Birdie began to cough...quietly at first, then a volley of great, gasping, hacking coughs, then a sudden torrent of pins. They were bent, they were rusty, but they were still sharp, and with them came a mass of bloody foam. "Oh," said Birdie. "I'm sorry, luv." She wiped the mass of bloody pins from Bjorn's face.  
"I'm fine," Bjorn said, but he knew he was not. "She's possessed," he thought "like Floki was. That means I am too because I'm covered in bodily fluids."  
Birdy began to grind on him again, slowly but speeding up afterwards.  
"I'm infected," Bjorn thought "I'm infected. Unclean, unclean, unclean, unclean...whoa, bite down on something!" He bit Birdie's arm, hard enough to draw blood, and she smacked him hard above his ear.  
"Don't do that again," she said. "Or I'll knock out your teeth." Bjorn knew she probably meant it, but at least she would leave him alone for a few hours now that she'd come.

It was some time before Birdie let Bjorn leave the house alone...perhaps about a week, but he was not too certain. He found the Taapiolan brothers sitting in a row along the pier, staring sullenly out to sea. They were bruised and battered, and looked incredibly tired.  
"Hey, look who it is," said Jukko "Greetings, o Fearless Leader." He bowed stiffly, mockingly, and sat down.  
"Yo," said Bjorn. "Birdy's off on a whaling expedition."  
Some of the Suomi grunted, but others remained silent.  
"Um," said Bjorn "our ship is missing."  
"The women bucked it up for scrap wood," said Hanno "It took them less than an hour to do it."  
"Where's Floki?" Bjorn asked.  
"Dunno, said Pekko. "He and Osric and Elric all disappeared the night we came here."   
"Hanh," said Jukko "Before I came here I would have thought being surrounded by desperate women would be absolute bliss, but it is awful. I had to fuck ten women last night."  
"Grania does shameful things with her thumbs," said Hanno. "I hope she washes her hands afterwards because she handles all the meat."  
"She makes good meat pies, though" said Jussi. "I got one in my lunch, so if you don't mind I'll eat it."  
"There are absolutely no men on this island except for us," said Hanno. "I wonder where they went?"  
"Perkale," Jussi muttered. He had just bitten into his pie, and stopped to pull a ginger-blond hair from his teeth. "It appears to be a pubic hair," he said. "It's not one of Grania's though. Hers are black. Now who would have ginger hair, and what on earth would they be doing in Grania's butchery?"  
"The Fighting Furry Freak Brothers have red hair," said Bjorn. "Perhaps Grania's laid her hands on them too. Some women have a thing for ginger devils, you know.  
"Osric and Elric?" asked Pekko "I can't imagine any woman actually wanting to fuck either of them."  
"I think I just lost my appetite," said Jussi. He threw away the pie. "There was a tooth in there too. It looked human."


	8. The Belly of the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get even nastier for Bjorn. This part may be offensive to whale lovers. And yes, I am taking the traditional rape fantasy and deliberately turning it upside down to prove a point!

The Dark Lady returned at sundown, towing the carcass of a right whale. Captain Birdy disembarked, and shouted "Ya gonna sit on your sweet buns all day, Luv, or are you gonna help haul this beast up onto the shore?"   
Grania had dragged Vaiko into her house and kept him there all afternoon, but she came out grinning and slapped Bjorn playfully on his ass. "Well aren't you a prime slab of bacon?" she asked "It's a pity Birdy keeps you for herself. You're the prettiest of them all."  
Her odour washed over him. Grania smelled of sex, bloody meat, and a faint fecal odour that suggested that she really did NOT wash her hands very well. Bjorn saw the look on Vaiko's face. Vaiko was a few years younger than he was, really no more than a kid. His face was red and his eyes were watery. Bjorn did not want to think about what Grania liked to do with her thumbs. His knees crumpled, and he nearly fell over on his face. Birdy ran down and slapped Grania hard across her face. Birdy's own face was as red as her sweater.  
"GRANIA! YOU SLAG!"  
Grania laughed "Big guy just fainted like a damn Saesan sissy. I never seen the like...does he even LIKE women?"  
Bjorn had see people do sick things to other people. Mostly it had been small men hurting women just to make themselves feel bigger and stronger. In one case it had been a boatload of Greek sailors after his own ass, and he had even heard of women hurting other women. The fact that this was a woman lacing into a man did not change the fact that what Grania was doing made Bjorn sick. Bile rose in his throat, and a few pins, which he spat out. He wanted to tell Grania to go stick her thumbs in her own arsehole for a change, but all he managed was to croak "Birdy" before he started vomiting pins. It hurt worse than the time he had eaten tainted oysters.  
"Damn it, Grania,' said Birdy. "Why can't you get your mind out of the gutter? You're off the rotation until I change my mind." Then she turned to Bjorn. "You better come hep, Luv. Get your mind off this unpleasantness. Your friends, too."

She was right. The stench of a dead whale being skinned, flensed, butchered, the fat rendered and the bones and skin scraped and left to dry in the sun was so awful that it blocked Bjorn's sense of smell and let him think clearly. The manual labour was no hardship for him either, for it left his mind free to ponder. Where in Hell were Floki and the Furry Freaks? If Kyllikylli was still alive as her brothers said, then where was she? And why in Hell did Louhi send them to Tir Manannan in the first place?


	9. Floki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Floki dies, but chooses not to stay dead.   
> WARNING! This is where Christ enters the story. If you are prejudiced against Christians or Christianity (as some people who use this site evidently are) you may not like this story much beyond this point!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The desecrated, bloodstained church with a gaping crevasse in the floor first appeared to me in a dream; then I actually saw a photograph that was exactly like the dream. I think it may be a message from my unconscious mind  
> Iris the Reincarnated Christ appears first in Bjorn Free...you may actually want to read it before you read this chapter. She's a little bit different from what most people expect Christ to be.

Floki had in fact seen the women dismantling the Hawk of a Thousand Years, and he had thrown a fit. The women beat him badly, and locked him in what had once been a Christian church. The place looked as though someone had taken great pains to obliterate all Christian symbols, but there was still a mark on the wall where the altar cross had hung. The walls were streaked with brown as though they had been spattered with blood again and again, and a section of the floor had fallen away, revealing a pit of unknown depth. Floki hated Christianity, but he sensed something truly WRONG about this place; something black and crawling and fetid, ravenous and cruel. Maybe it was pagan, but it was not HIS sort of paganism. Some time later, two women entered dragging Osric and Elric, who were securely bound. The women were speaking in Gaelic, so he did not understand a word. They were followed by a third, who wore a butcher's apron and carried knives and other tools of that trade.

"Damn, they're hideous," said Aileen. "I never could abide a man with ginger hair."  
"Nor any man for too long," said her friend Little Aoife. "but you're right. Whatever is wrong with them might be passed on to their children, so Birdy says they're for the pot. I'm hungry, so let's get this over with. The old man too...though there's practically no meat on him at all. He's a disgusting old bastard....whup! He's conscious!"   
Floki punched Aoife squarely in the face, and Aileen waded in, yelling like a scalded cat and swinging one of Grania's meat hooks. The butcheress hung back a bit, her cleaver in one hand and a nasty boning knife in the other. Floki backed off, evading the hook but the pit behind him was closer than he thought, so Floki fell...  
And fell...  
And fell....then landed with a splash down at sea level.

It was dark, and Floki had no idea how long he had lain in the cold sea water at the bottom of the pit, but he heard a voice. A voice that he hated. Aethelstan's voice.  
"I told you that you'd shit a brick when you found out what happens when you die" said that familiar, gentle, much despised voice. "Well here you are, dead. Or mostly dead. Take a look around you."  
"If I'm dead," said Floki "then what the fuck are you doing in Valhalla?"  
"This isn't Valhalla, nor is it Hell. Open your eyes."  
Floki refused to open his eyes. "If by some mistake I've gone to Christian Heaven, I do not want to look. I do not want to spend eternity with you, Aethelstan."  
Someone was laughing. It sounded more girlish than Floki expected Aethelstan's laughter to be.  
"Poor Floki," said an unfamiliar girl's voice. "You believe in your gods, but have you ever wondered if they believed in you?" A small hand patted his face. "I believe in you, Floki....but the Aesir don't. They're just projections of your own petty, self-serving desires. They had a purpose once, but they no longer serve that purpose, and they have become a nuisance. That's why Mama is going to send them back to Valhalla.  
Floki's eyes snapped open. The clear white light hurt his eyes.  
"Jesus H. Christ!" he yelped.  
"If that is who you say I am, continued the little girl "though I would appreciate it if you didn't take my name in vain. We've met before in Constantinople.In this lifetime I am called Iris." She had brown skin, thick black curling hair tied in a snood, and very fine white teeth that showed when she smiled."Now you have a choice, Floki. You can take another spin on the Wheel, and be born somewhere else, or you can return to your old body, which unfortunately is not in very good condition right now. If you go back, it will hurt, but Bjorn really needs your help. If you choose to be reborn, you will be....hmmn....the daughter of a Mumbai chai wallah. Well, that's not the worst life, even if it's not the best."  
"You're not ready for Heaven yet," said Aethelstan. "So don't worry."  
"Why haven't you gone on to another life, if that's how it works."  
"She lets me stay to keep an eye on you and Ragnar and his family," said Aethelstan "It was that or be reborn as the daughter of a Mayan peasant. Trust me...NOBODY wants to be born as a Mayan peasant!"  
"I always give people choices," said Iris. "Try to remember that I give people choices. I forgive their mistakes, I die for their sins every thirty-three years, and I always come back."  
"I wish someone had explained that to me when I was alive," said Aethelstan "but I was told being a good Christian meant prayer and fasting and doing penance for my sins."   
"Some of the things people say about me you'd think I was no better than those blasted Aesir," said Iris. "Really! They actually say that I went around claiming to be the Only Begotten Son of God..."  
"Aren't you?" asked Aethelstan  
"If that is who you think I am..."  
"I want to go back!" said Floki "Send me back to Bjorn right NOW!"


	10. Brotherly Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Brotherly Love sets sail, while things get progressively uglier on Tir Manannan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brotherly Love was the name of a trading vessel captained by one of my ancestors. I am not sure if the name actually has anything to do with the city of Philadelphia, aside from the fact that Philadelphos means "brotherly love"

The Brotherly Love was not a big ship, but she was fast. Father Mackenzie explained that she had been reverse engineered from a Viking longship that had been captured of the coast of Iona about five years ago. Nate did not think it wise to ask what had happened to the crew of the captured vessel because the Ionian monks were the grisliest, toughest and most aggressive monks that Nate had ever seen, and Constantinople had been swarming with priests and monks of a dozen different orders. Brothers George and Lucas were up in the bow, rowing like demons. They had made up a rowing chant of their own, and were trying to get the others to join in.  
"Brotherly love!" "End all strife!"  
"Brotherly love!" "End all strife!"  
"Brotherly love!" "End all strife!"  
'AAAAAY, WHAT WHAT! BRING IT ON DOWN!"  
They went on like that for nearly half an hour before Kyllikylli got annoyed and slapped a Touch Me Not on Lucas's shoulder. He giggled maniacally.  
"Perkale!" Kylli said "He LIKES it!" She did the same to Brother George, who grinned and said "Don't do that, it turns me on."  
"SHEISS!" Kylli shouted. Her ponytail was puffed up like the tail of a squirrel. "Just don't bother me. I'm extra sparky today. It's a girl thing."  
The monks grinned at her. They were freshly washed and shaved, but they were both chewing garlic and the smell was repellant.  
"There are things that men need to know, things that men should not know, and things that men just don't want to know" they said in unison.  
"I just want to get to Tir Manannan before I wig out and jump over the side. It also looks like there is another storm rolling in." A hailstone the size of a bean struck her face. "Hail! Why does it have to be hail?"

It had not been an easy night for Bjorn, even though Birdy had been too tired and cross to crawl up on top of him and grind the life out of him as she usually did. She was still irritable when she got up that morning, but she brought him his eggs in bed.  
"We won't be eating meat for a while," she said. "Grania is pissed about being taken off the rotation. You don't look so hot, luv. Are you sick again?"  
Bjorn shook his head. A voice in the back of his head shrieked "I'm not sick, I'm possessed! Unclean, unclean, unclean unclean..." He coughed, bringing up blood and more pins.  
"Would you like some usquae beatha?" Birdie asked.  
Bjorn shook his head. "It would hurt going down.: Then he leaned over and kissed Birdy. "So love sometimes comes in the form of a big-assed woman with whiskers," he thought. "Hmmmn. Is that how it works?" Someone was pounding on he door. Birdie scrambled into her clothes, went and took her harpoon from its cabinet, and answered the door.

Grania was at the door with her cleaver. So were all the women of Tir Manannan...over a hundred, perhaps as many as a hundred and forty, and judging by the smell they were all just at the point of taking the hormone train to Crazy Town.  
"What do you want, Grania?" asked Birdy "I'm not going to put you back on the rotation."  
"Grania grinned nastily. "Can't we talk about this in a reasonable way, like sisters?" She spat out a nail.   
"I can't reason with you, Grania," said Birdy "you're completely irrational."  
Bjorn snuck past her. Birdy had left the cabinet open, and he thought it best to retrieve his axe.  
"It ain't fair," said Grania "you keeping the pretty one for yourself. Me and the others talked about it last night. He's a peach, so give us a nibble, Birdy!" Her wheedling tone was sickening. "The little men wear out too easily...."  
"That's because you mistreat them, Grania, you and your nasty thumbs. Stick your thumbs up your own arse for a change. You're sick!"  
Grania growled. "Give us a nibble, Birdy!" Other women echoed her.  
"No," said Birdy. Then blood suddenly spurted from her thigh. Her sister had swung the cleaver wildly, but had managed to strike a major artery. Almost instantaneously, Birdy lifted her harpoon and thrust it up under Grania's chin. The front step of Birdy's cottage was awash in her favorite colour. Bjorn new the difference between courage and stupidity. He screamed like his nuts were in a mangle, shut the door and locked it just before the tidal wave of screaming women struck.  
"The Gods are going to laugh at me in Valhalla," he thought. "I'm going to be shredded by a mob of big-ass devil women on the rag. At least I've got my axe again..."   
Over the screams, he heard the delicate notes of a kantele.


	11. Welcome to the Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sampo is a mysterious device from the Kalevala, described as "the source of all prosperity", but it is said to have been broken and lost beneath the ocean. The Machine is based in this, and seems to combine elements of a prayer wheel, a singing bowl, a radio transmitter, and the HARP (or Harmonically Amplified Resonating Pulse) device designed by Nicoli Tesla, powered by the tides. I had a dream about something like it, like the slaughterhouse church. Maybe it too actually exists...if so, I would like to know where it is and what it actually does!

Floki woke up inside the Machine, and it took him a long time to make his way to the top. He had landed in a central chamber lined with odd honeycomb-shaped tiles...luckily, he had avoided landing on the apparatus in the center, and hit the surrounding basin of water, which was still deep enough to disperse some of the momentum of his fall despite having been half filled by falling debris. There were bones littered about that might have been animal or human that had been sawed and split to get at the marrow. He found that the whole island was webbed with tunnels like an anthill that seemed to serve as channels for sea water. Floki had no idea what the upper tunnels were for, perhaps they were simply meant to be used as storage chambers as they were evidently being used as such by the inhabitants of Tir Manannan, but the whole island seemed to be part of the Machine. Floki crept onwards and upwards with his right hand always against the wall. He knew the trick to any maze was to always keep one hand against the wall. Eventually he found his way out, and into chaos. Floki did not see the Taapiolan brothers at all until Vaiko collided with him and let out a startled yelp. The hand cart that Vaiko had been pushing tipped over and scattered its contents. Vaiko's eyes looked like those of some small, frightened night creature. Then Jussi appeared. "Well, you're alive at least," he said "Grab what you can and get down to the boats. We might make it to the mainland alive." He coughed, and spat out a dozen pins. "Don't get too close. We're posessed."  
"Where's Bjorn?" Floki asked.  
Vaiko pointed. One of the tidy thatched stone cottages was surrounded by screaming women who were clawing their hands bloody trying to get through the door...or at least most of them were, because some of them crouched together, eating something raw ad bloody.  
"Is that Bjorn?" Floki asked. "They're...eating...oh gods, Ragnar is going to skin us all alive..."  
Jussi shook his head. "He's still in the house. He locked them out, so he's alive still, if not for long. We can't help him because there's too damn many of them, and they would eat us too."  
"You are a lot of..." said Floki "...at least Hanno seems to have figured something out!"  
Hanno and Pekko had rolled a large oil barrel to the top of the hill, and lit the trail of liquid that had poured from it. The whole side of the hill lit up, and so did the roof of the house.  
"HE'S GOING TO COOK IN THERE!" Floki yelped. "Gods help him!" A hailstone the size of a walnut struck Floki squarely on top of his head. Lightning struck somewhere close enough that Floki could smell it.  
"YOU GODS ARE SICK MOTHERFUCKERS!" yelled Floki "WELL, IF YOU WANT HIM, TAKE HIM!" Floki wept. He knew his eyeliner was running, but he did not care.

Bjorn sat in the fireplace, because he figured that if it was designed to contain a fire, it might also keep the heat away from his body so he would not burn. On the other hand, he was finding it difficult to breathe because the flames sucked away all the air. He numbly considered cutting his own throat or flinging open the door to run out swinging his axe and yelling. Perhaps....but when he tried to stand his legs failed him, and he fell face down on the floor. The stones were cool on his face.  
"This is a shitty way to go," he thought as he lay on the floor "The Gods are going to laugh at me..." Then he realized that he did not really believe in the Gods, or in Valhalla. What DID he believe in?"   
Bjorn blacked out before he could form another thought.

The hail continued to pelt down and the Suomi continued to flit back and forth, gathering what they could before they left. The fire still burned and Floki continued to weep, shameless as a child.  
"Let's go, man," said Pekko. "It's hopeless. We did not even find the Sampo, and we lost Bjorn and the other two. Kylli's going to be mad at us, but let's go."  
"Ragnar's going to skin us all alive," said Floki.  
One of the slavering, red-smeared woen lifted her head and sniffed.   
"They smell us," said Jussi "and they're still hungry. To the docks, then."

When they got to the docks they found that another ship had sailed into the harbour. It was bigger than the Tir Manannan boats, and might be mistaken for a Viking longship save for a few significant details. The first was that the sail was blazoned with a St. Andrew's Cross and a flaming Sacred Heart. The figurehead was carved in the shape of an upraised hand, continually high-fiving the sea and sky. Not only that, but the crew were all monks, but these were not frightened little men like Aethelstan had been. These monks were armed and looked pugnacious, and there were two that were as big as any Viking who were grinning and chanting something under their breath. Nate was on this ship and so was Kylli, both wearing heavy cloaks that had probably been loaned to them by monks.   
Kylli dodged a hailstone. "Where's Bjorn?"  
"He's roasting," said Floki "They've got him trapped inside the burning house."  
The monks began the Rituale Romanum. The women of Tir Manannan all raised their heads and screamed in unison.  
"And so it begins," said Kylli.


	12. Open Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bjorn opens his eyes, and sees things differently than before

"Open your eyes, Bjorn," said a voice that Bjorn recognised, though he had not heard it in years.  
"Just leave me alone, Aethelstan, I'm...hey, Aethelstan, am I dead?" Bjorn sat up, opened his eyes, and saw he was surrounded by flames. "What am I doing in Christian Hell?" he asked. Then he saw his own body lying on the floor. He had never actually seen his own face before, and it was surprisingly different from the reflections he had seen before.   
"Not yet," said Aethelstan. "Your body is close to asphyxiation, but it's your soul that's in trouble now. Babda Mor has got a hold on you."  
There was a cloudy black mass hovering above Bjorn's head. It's true form was difficult to see, but there was a suggestion of a woman's face in its midst.  
"This is the dread Babda Mor, also called the Dark Lady, Mother of Mayhem, and The Sow That Eats Her Young."  
"My daughter claimed him as hers, so he's mine." said Babda. "Give him to me."  
"Babda, please...." said Aethelstan. "I've already told you that he belongs to Somebody Else. I don't think you understand exactly how much trouble you're going to be in when...oh, hello Iris. What took you so long?"  
"I had to take out the trash for my earthly mother, and since my Other Mother says to honour our fathers and mothers, I had to obey." The speaker was a girl on the edge of womanhood, her hair tied up in a snood. "Hello, Bjorn. I believe we met in Constantinople. In this life, I am called Iris."  
"You're that little fish girl!"  
Iris shrugged. "I shall make you fishers of men if you will follow me," she said. "At least you did not take my name in vain. At any rate, Bjorn, meet Babda. She is what humans call a Goddess, though not one of your Aesir. She wishes to consume you."  
"What happened to Birdy?" asked Bjorn. "Was she consumed by this....thing?"  
"Um," said Aethelstan. "She was lucky. Her self-sacrifice for your sake earned her another spin on the Wheel. She's been reborn as a healthy baby boy in the city of Mumbai."  
"He's still mine," said Babda. "I want him. I'm hungry."  
Iris scowled at the black shape. "He was mine first, and you'll still be able to glut yourself on the souls of your own children,"she said. "This is what happens because Mother gave humans free will, Bjorn. They choose to believe in weird shit and create these gods. Then the gods get nasty and turn on them. You could let Babda consume you, but I do not advise it. You could also take another spin on the Wheel...I think the next available opening is as the daughter of a Byzantine silk merchant, so you may meet me again. Or I might just send you back to your body, though I warn you it may hurt." One end of the roof abruptly caved in, but luckily the rest was beginning to burn out. Lightning crashed overhead, and Bjorn heard chanting and screams.  
"Your sons are here, Babda," said Iris. "You might want to go greet them." There was a loud POP, as lightning makes when it is close at hand, and a smell like boiling seawater and cooked flesh, then silence.  
"Send me back," said Bjorn. "Even if it hurts."  
"One more thing," said Iris. "Tilt back your head."She pressed her thumb into Bjorn's chest, then against his lips, then against his forehead. "Set me as a seal upon your heart, and upon your lips and upon your mind, and you will be free forevermore," she said. Her thumb was surprisingly cool and pleasant. "I warn you again, Bjorn...what happens next is going to hurt."


	13. Kyllikylli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Molossian was the ancestor of today's Rottweiler and Bernese Mountain dogs, used since Roman times to herd cattle.

The harbour turned into a thrashing, chaotic mass of water and furious women, but Kylli's brothers stood transfixed on the dock. Babda Mor had them, and she would not let them go. Some of the monks faltered, and were dragged down into the feeding frenzy, but Father Mackenzie and the twins held firm. Kyllikylli had climbed up into the rigging of the Brotherly Love; her hair had puffed up prodigiously and she was playing her kantele to keep calm. The hailstones became more and more numerous, and the air crackled...in fact, the storm seemed to be making Kylli extra sparky.  
"YO! FATHER MACKENZIE! i GOT AN IDEA! GET YOUR MONKS AWAY FROM THE SIDES OF THE BOAT!" Kylli yelled, and she put her kantele back in its leather bag and hung it from the rigging, for it was a precious and delicate instrument and she did not want to lose or damage it. "I SAID GET AWAY FROM THE SIDES!" She clambered out on the yard-arm, which is not an easy thing to do in a hailstorm. Father Mackenzie finally seemed to realize what Kylli was doing, and the monks all clustered towards the mast with Nate in the middle.   
"Buh-bye, bitches," Kylli said quietly, and then jumped into the midst of the feeding frenzy. The Touch Me Not that she let off emitted a loud bang, and there was a stench of boiling flesh.  
"Oy vey," said Nate, as the bodies began to float to the surface. Kyllikylli eventually surfaced as well, and paddled towards the shore. "C'mon!" she yelled "Bjorn's not dead yet, but he's gonna be soon, and I can't break the door down by myself!" No less than a hundred women had been in the water, as had been four of the monks. They were all dead. Twenty more women had been crushed, mangled, and eaten in the feeding frenzy in front ob the burning house. Of the population of Tir Manannan, only about 20 remained...until Kylli blitzed two more on the way to the burnt house. Nate reminded himself never to get on Kyllikylli's bad side, as the monks continued chanting and Kylli and Floki went in search of a chisel and hammer to strike the door off its hinges. Other women rushed at the monks and were struck down by those heavy blackthorn staves that they carried, and one rushed at Floki and was struck squarely in her face with the hammer. The remainder were eventually penned inside the church that had been made into a slaughterhouse. When the Twins reached the steps of the burnt house, they uttered a peculiar low moan. George held what was once a woman's head before it had been torn off and half its features gnawed away, but which still had a mane of luxuriant hair the colour of oyster stout. Nate could still see a distinct family resemblance to George and Lucas and to another corpse that had a harpoon thrust squarely up through her chin and out the back of her skull.   
"Oh, the devil, the devil in life!" Nate thought. "Babda Mor had sons as well as daughters!" He handed a handkerchief to Floki. whose eye makeup was running. Then Kyllikylli let out a blood-curdling yell "We better go see what she's howling about," Nate said "If Bjorn is alive, he may still be possessed."

The kiss that woke Bjorn was gross, because whoever was kissing him had a bad case of stubble, and their breath reeked of garlic and usquae beatha. Then he realized that the strange man was not kissing him, but breathing life back into his lungs, and that he was robed like a monk, though of a different order than Aethelstan, who had been like a whipped collie. This man and the perfectly identical monk who stood over them chanting in Latin were more like the Molossian breed ...massive brutes with orange eye spots that could throttle a man with their jaws or use those same jaws to pick up an egg without breaking it.  
Kyllikylli uttered another ear-splitting whoop, and shouted "He's alive! He's alive!" then proceeded to do an odd little dance similar to what in later centuries would be known as the Charleston until she lost her footing and landed in a heap.  
"Here lad...this will get the taste of spit out of your mouth." A canteen was pressed to Bjorn's lips, but what he thought was water turned out to be usquae beatha. It burned like hellfire going down, but he now understood why it was called the Water of Life.  
"What is this?" Kylli asked. There was a red mark on Bjorn's chest, over his heart. "It looks like a fish..."  
George and Lucas grinned. "It seems like he's met the Boss already. She'll make you a Fisher of Men if you don't watch out, and keep you for this life and all your lives to come.   
Bjorn looked about at the ruins of Birdie's cottage. Everyone seemed all right except for Floki, who seemed fit to be tied.  
"Fucking Christians," said Floki. "I think the Gods have pissed in my mouth yet again..."


	14. Floki Flees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the true purpose of the voyage to Tir Manannan is revealed Bjorn learns the difference between the Suomi and the Norse, and Floki flees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There really was a dramatic climatic shift beginning in the 7th century AD that started the mass migration of the Norse and Mongols southwards and produced droughts in Central America that brought about the end of the Mayan era, though the actual cause of it is still unknown.   
> All the stuff about the health benefits of garlic is true...and people have used garlic as medicine since Ancient Egypt.

The survivors of Tir Manannan were herded onto the Dark Lady with whatever salvaged goods they could carry, and told to make for the mainland, because they had all refused to help search for the Sampo and Bjorn had no heart to kill them. They were evil women, but he pitied them more than anything else.   
"What exactly does the Sampo look like?" he asked Kyllikylli as the Dark Lady disappeared over the horizon. "No one has ever told me."   
"No one really knows," said Kylli. "It is supposed to resemble some sort of musical instrument. Some call it Vainamoinen's Harp." The tiny Mistress of Song looked extremely tired and pale. In her own words, blitzing the bitches had taken the puff out of her ponytail.  
"I know what it does," said Bjorn. "Don't tell Floki. He'll freak out and kill us all if he finds out. He really believes in the Aesir."  
"It's a damn shame they don't believe in him, " said Kylli. "They don't believe in the inherent value of humanity, and they never have. They're just parasites, really...and anything they can't control, they will destroy out of spite."  
"I know," said Bjorn. "But why are you here? Aren't you Norse too?"  
"No I'm not. I'm Suomi. We were here before the Norse. We don't speak your language and we have never worshipped your gods. We hate the Aesir almost as much as your buddy hates Christ, only with more reason." That cold moon-penny glint was back in Kylli's eyes. Bjorn realized that small and ludicrous as she was, Kylli was a ruthless bitch and not to be trifled with...hell, she was worse than his mother! "You're not like any Norseman I've met, Bjorn. You have sisu. The rest...well, look at your father, and your father's manky friend. They're both bucketheads, thanks to the Aesir."  
"Are your own Gods any different?" Bjorn asked "Or are you a Christian? I've never actually asked what you believe."  
"Technically speaking, the Suomi don't have gods. We see everything as holy, and while we honour the spirits of the dead and the nature-beings, we don't exactly worship them.That's why the Aesir hate us and have been trying to use your people to wipe us out since you lot first came out of the East...that's a good five thousand years steeped in blood right there! Not only that, but have you noticed that for the past two centuries the winters have been getting longer and colder? That's the Aesir's handiwork. They want us to freeze and you Norse to expand southwards. The Aesir feed on bloodshed and ruin, and you're not the only people they're messing with. Right now, the Mongols are being pushed down into China, and are being repulsed by the Chinese."  
"Well, if Yidu is any example to go by..."  
Kylli smacked him. "This ain't a joke, Bjorn. Just pray that you never meet a Mongol. They're like the Norse, only smarter and meaner, and they'll be reaching the borders of Europe some time in the next few centuries.Not only that, but thank whatever deity you please that there's an ocean between you and the Mayans. They had a wonderful culture once, but the same forces that the Aesir use to make it colder and wetter here make it hotter and dryer where the Mayans live, and their whole civilization is sliding into an orgy of cannibalism and blood sacrifice.  
Bjorn remembered what had happened when he was near death. "They're what people choose to believe in."  
"You and I know better, so fuck them....fuck the Aesir, and fuck all the gods."  
"Fuck all the gods..." said Bjorn as Kylli stormed off. Then he touched the odd fish-shaped mark on his chest "...except for the one that believes in us."

"Well, Floki's buggered off somewhere." said Jussi. "I think he's on to what we're doing." They had been searching for the Sampo for three days with no luck. They had found few musical instruments on Tir Manannan, save for a set of bagpipes that had to be forcibly confiscated from Brother George to prevent him from playing them, and nothing resembling a harp save for Kylli's kantele, which had survived the storm but needed to be restrung. "I believe that the appropriate colloquialism for this situation is that it sucks balls," said Jussi. Five of the other Taapiolan brothers muttered assent, and Vaiko (whose eyes were watering again) snuffled but said nothing at all. The twin monks seemed more optimistic. They had practiced all morning with their blackthorn staffs, and they stank of sweat and garlic.  
"Why do you chew that stuff?" Bjorn asked. "It stinks!"  
"It wards off colds and infections," said George, lowers the risk of heart disease and excessive blood clotting," said George  
"It is also commonly believed to ward off evil spirits, werewolves and vampires...though it is unlikely that vampires actually exist."  
"We find that the purple-skinned variety from Spain works best," said George.   
"Hey, can you spare me some of that?" asked Kylli. Lucas handed her a head of garlic, and she went off behind some rocks, muttering "This is what I get for wearing pants..."  
"Um," said Lucas "Its also supposed to be good for treating yeast infections."  
"We should give her some privacy," said George "she's going to stick it up her wazoo."  
"I did not need to know that," said Bjorn.  
"Um, hey..." said Kylli "Guys, you've got to see this."  
"Please don't make me go," said Bjorn "I've already learned enough creepy female stuff to last me at least a year."  
Kylli's head poked out from behind a rock. "No, buckethead! There's a cave in among these rocks. It's a little tight, but I think it opens up after a bit. I'm not sure Bjorn would fit through the opening..."  
"It still sounds a little bit creepy and female..." said Bjorn.

"Strip down and coat yourself with whale oil so you don't get stuck," said George. He and his brother had done so already, and both were grinning, nearly naked and coated in rendered whale blubber "There's nae creature alive that can outrun a greased Scotsman!" Then they both started to sing "OOOOOO! I'll give 'er the inch of one, I puts it in, I puts it in..."  
"They're not at all like Aethelstan," thought Bjorn. "In fact, they're both as mad as Floki. I hope an oiled Norwegian can outrun a greased Scotsman, 'cos if they go Greek on me things are going to get UGLY!"

"I have absolutely no idea why you thought you had to strip naked and cover yourself in oil," said Kyllikylli. "because it really does open out a fair bit once you get inside. Mind your step, though...it's wet."  
"It still sounds a bit creepy and female," said Bjorn.  
Kylli flipped him the bird. "You're lucky I need to work up a charge," she said. "No more pussy jokes. I'm the only one with a vagina, so I'm the only one allowed to make pussy jokes. Damn it's hot in here..."  
George and Lucas grinned, and chimed in with another verse of I Puts It In.  
Kylli gave them a Meaningful Look. "That is an utterly disgusting song. Where did two nice Catholic boys learn a song like that?"  
"From Father Mackenzie," said George.  
"He loves to sing when he's drunk," said Lucas.  
"Just shut up you two..." said Kylli. "I think I hear someone up ahead..."


	15. Floki Flees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the true purpose of the voyage to Tir Manannan is revealed Bjorn learns the difference between the Suomi and the Norse, and Floki flees.

The survivors of Tir Manannan were herded onto the Dark Lady with whatever salvaged goods they could carry, and told to make for the mainland, because they had all refused to help search for the Sampo and Bjorn had no heart to kill them. They were evil women, but he pitied them more than anything else.   
"What exactly does the Sampo look like?" he asked Kyllikylli as the Dark Lady disappeared over the horizon. "No one has ever told me."   
"No one really knows," said Kylli. "It is supposed to resemble some sort of musical instrument. Some call it Vainamoinen's Harp." The tiny Mistress of Song looked extremely tired and pale. In her own words, blitzing the bitches had taken the puff out of her ponytail.  
"I know what it does," said Bjorn. "Don't tell Floki. He'll freak out and kill us all if he finds out. He really believes in the Aesir."  
"It's a damn shame they don't believe in him, " said Kylli. "They don't believe in the inherent value of humanity, and they never have. They're just parasites, really...and anything they can't control, they will destroy out of spite."  
"I know," said Bjorn. "But why are you here? Aren't you Norse too?"  
"No I'm not. I'm Suomi. We were here before the Norse. We don't speak your language and we have never worshipped your gods. We hate the Aesir almost as much as your buddy hates Christ, only with more reason." That cold moon-penny glint was back in Kylli's eyes. Bjorn realized that small and ludicrous as she was, Kylli was a ruthless bitch and not to be trifled with...hell, she was worse than his mother! "You're not like any Norseman I've met, Bjorn. You have sisu. The rest...well, look at your father, and your father's manky friend. They're both bucketheads, thanks to the Aesir."  
"Are your own Gods any different?" Bjorn asked "Or are you a Christian? I've never actually asked what you believe."  
"Technically speaking, the Suomi don't have gods. We see everything as holy, and while we honour the spirits of the dead and the nature-beings, we don't exactly worship them.That's why the Aesir hate us and have been trying to use your people to wipe us out since you lot first came out of the East...that's a good five thousand years steeped in blood right there! Not only that, but have you noticed that for the past two centuries the winters have been getting longer and colder? That's the Aesir's handiwork. They want us to freeze and you Norse to expand southwards. The Aesir feed on bloodshed and ruin, and you're not the only people they're messing with. Right now, the Mongols are being pushed down into China, and are being repulsed by the Chinese."  
"Well, if Yidu is any example to go by..."  
Kylli smacked him. "This ain't a joke, Bjorn. Just pray that you never meet a Mongol. They're like the Norse, only smarter and meaner, and they'll be reaching the borders of Europe some time in the next few centuries.Not only that, but thank whatever deity you please that there's an ocean between you and the Mayans. They had a wonderful culture once, but the same forces that the Aesir use to make it colder and wetter here make it hotter and dryer where the Mayans live, and their whole civilization is sliding into an orgy of cannibalism and blood sacrifice.  
Bjorn remembered what had happened when he was near death. "They're what people choose to believe in."  
"You and I know better, so fuck them....fuck the Aesir, and fuck all the gods."  
"Fuck all the gods..." said Bjorn as Kylli stormed off. Then he touched the odd fish-shaped mark on his chest "...except for the one that believes in us."


	16. Uhmata Ukha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Sampo is found, and two of Floki's fingers are broken along with his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Louhi (aka Lady Lou) appears in my first story.

Floki scrambled off into the shadows when the others entered the Bell Pit. He had found the Machine, but he had absolutely no idea how to destroy it because although he had a fair bit of technical knowledge he had absolutely no idea how it actually worked.  
"The tides power it," said Kylli. "We need to clear out the tunnels so that the water flows in properly."  
"Why do they call it the Harp?" asked Bjorn. "It bears no resemblance to a stringed instrument at all."  
"I was taught that the name was an anagram," said Jussi. "Properly speaking, it is called a 'harmonien aarivali raikua pulssi' or 'harmonically amplified resonating pulse'. Together with 'uhmata ukha', which is the motto of the Circumpolar Union, it spells 'harpuu,' which is Suomi for 'harp.'"  
"Uhmata ukha?" asked Bjorn.  
"It means 'defy the threat'", said Hanno. "That's the official motto of the Union. The unofficial motto is..."  
"Lemme guess...'fuck the Aesir?'"  
"Where did you learn that?" asked Hanno.  
"I hang around with Suomi," said Bjorn "I observe things. Louhi told me that if I want to worship something, I should worship Wisdom."  
"You've met Lady Lou?" asked Pekko. "Why didn't you...oh, hold on."  
There was a strange thrumming sound as the large turbines beneath the operating platform began to turn, and the whole chamber began to vibrate. Kylli sat down in front of the console.  
"Gotta take it down in pitch," she said. "The tuning forks please, Hanno."  
Hanno dug a set of tuning forks out of his pack, selected a pair and struck them together. The resulting note echoed around the Bell Pit for nearly a minute. Then Floki suddenly rocketed out of the water like a salmon leaping a dam and pulled Kylli under. The resulting chaos as ten men thrashed about the Bell Pit trying to catch an eleventh man who held a petite woman by the throat would have been comical had it not been in deadly earnest. Eventually, Bjorn managed to haul the pair of them out of the water. Floki had clung to Kylli's throat until she passed out.  
Bjorn smiled enigmatically. Floki saw that his eyes were glowing faintly. This was not the pale light of Suomi ghost eyes, nor the blue that he had seen in Ragnar's eyes from time to time, but a kind of deep indigo like a Persian iris. This would have made more sense to Floki had he known the triple meaning of the name "Iris"  
Firstly, the rainbow, symbol of God's Covenant not to destroy the world.  
Secondly, a beautiful flower native to Byzantium.  
Thirdly, the coloured part of the eye.  
"Hullo again, Floki. You just don't get it, do you?" The voice was not Bjorn's voice, but that of a young girl.  
"Christ!" hissed Floki. "Fuck off!"  
"You know I really rather like you, even if I don't care for your bigotry...but I'm not going to let you kill any more of Bjorn's friends. Let Kyllikylli go."  
"Fuck off!"  
"Did I not explain this to you before, Floki?" The Aesir don't love you and they don't deserve their love. They've got to go. Killing Bjorn's friends won't change what's going to happen; it will only make him hate you."  
Hanno had taken over the controls of the Sampo. The high note deepened into something that sounded rather like "Wa, wa, wa, aum, aum, AUM! AUM! AUM!" and then down into a rumble that was felt in the blood and bones rather than heard.  
"Buh-bye, Aesir! Enjoy Valhalla!" chirped Iris.  
"Christ, you are a fucking BITCH!" said Floki. "I didn't do it because I loved the Gods, I did it because I love Bjorn!"  
"Well, Bjorn wants to kill you right now, but I think that would be a terrible mistake." Bjorn's hands reached out and grasped the middle fingers of Floki's hands. "I warn you, that if you don't let go of the girl this is going to hurt you."  
"DAMN YOU CHRIST TO HELL!"  
There was a sharp crack.  
"I've been to Hell," said Iris. "I harrowed it. I came back. Don't say I didn't warn you."  
Floki sagged. Brother lucas rushed forward to resuscitate Kylli.  
Bjorn sat down abruptly.  
"What the fuck, Floki?" he asked in his normal voice.

"So what the fuck, Floki?" asked Nate.  
"I love Bjorn, as I loved his father and uncle. The Christ took them all from me, so I hope they crucify her again. Funny thing, though...I never knew that Christ was a girl.  
"Um," said Nate. "You mean love in the Platonic sense, right?"  
"No, I meant in the carnal sense," said Floki. "I never told anyone, but I love that huge welkin-eyed slab of prime beef more than I love my wife or my life."  
"Um, said Nate. "Bjorn likes women. In fact, he borders on being obsessive about it. And you're a married man. It would be a shame to cheat on a nice lady like Helga. She deserves better than that."  
"Helga knows," said Floki. "She's a peach, but she's gone through the Change and isn't all that interested in fun and games. She just hangs around for companionship, really."  
"Still, you're an asshole if you cheat on her. She deserves better. Bjorn deserves better...my God, did you do anything funny to him when he was little?"  
"No," said Floki "I don't swing that way."  
"Thank God...and I suppose he told you about the incident with the Greek sailors, so you've been warned."  
Floki nodded.  
"Besides, if Bjorn liked men he'd be after my ass not yours." said Nate "You're...old, and you're ugly, and you're married."  
"And you're a fat Hebrew sausage," said Floki.  
"No, I've already established that I am chopped liver," said Nate.  
Floki raised his splinted hands and flipped Nate the double bird. "Fuck you, Nate."  
"You just wish you could!" Nate grinned evilly, and darted off.  
Kylli had been napping in a corner, but she sat up, grinning and rubbing the bruises on her neck. "Ouch," she said. "Don't ever try to throttle me again, Floki. If you do, Bjorn will break more than just your fingers.  
"He's already broken my heart," said Floki "so I don't care."


	17. Land of Lox and Money

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bjorn and his crew return to Kattegat

The Brotherly Love hove into Kattegat harbour some time around midmorning. The trip home had been fairly uneventful save for the near-incessant wangaing and Floki's periodic attempts to commit suicide by throwing himself overboard.   
"Cheer up Floki," Nate told him. "You're going to Byzantium!"  
Floki flipped him the bird again.   
'Suit yourself," said Nate. "I imagine you don't want to go to Bjorn's official baptism, then. He's going to have the Twins dunk him in the harbour, just so everyone can see it. Then we're all going with you as far as Kiev to collect his payment at the bank, and then around and back and home again.  
"Who's going to build Ragnar's ships?" asked Floki.  
"Lucas has studied your designs, and thinks he may even be able to improve on them. He and George are going to build a church...not a big one at first, mind you. People are going to catch on after a while. Personally, I'd rather have a synagogue, but where would I find twelve Jews crazy enough to come to Norway. What do we have that they would want?"  
"Lox," said Floki "and money. Everybody wants money."  
"Hey, I think you're on to something, Floki. This could be the land of lox and money."

"These are two priests I met on my travels, Father" said Bjorn. "They are missionaries, not captives."  
George and Lucas grinned maniacally. Bjorn's daughter smiled back at them from behind Ragnar's chair and waved.  
"We heard the last one you had fucked up," said George.  
"You really should forgive him," said Lucas. "He wasn't the right man for the job.  
"You got a wanker," said George "when you needed a zealot.  
"We on the other hand volunteered to do this," said Lucas.  
"We're of an entirely different order." said George.  
"Care for a drink, Boss? " said Lucas "'S the Water of Life."  
Ragnar grinned back. There was a distinct likeness between him and them.  
"Don't martyr them, Father" said Bjorn "or let anyone else do it. That is precisely what they want."  
And so the Wrath of God came to taste of the Water of Life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes my second long story. I hope you like it, and I hope that some of you will comment on it. I tried to be as inventive as I could while still being faithful to the characters (though my version of Bjorn swears a great deal more than he does on the show). You might also want to read my first story, because I am probably going to take it down after I come back from my family's annual trip into bear country with small children (aka "camping"). and I may return to writing long form stories after I watch the second half of the season. Until then, Keep Calm And Carry An Axe!


End file.
